Tyranny Of Steel Novels & Stories

“Do you call protecting our kind reckless? Do you call fighting for survival reckless?” Elder George, with his perpetually narrowed eyes, lifted his chin. “No one denies the need for strength, Enzo. But strength without discipline leads to destruction. You are blinded by anger, driven by impulses. That is not leadership—it is tyranny.” Tyranny. The word slithered from his lips and coiled around me like a challenge. My fists clenched. I wanted to leap across the floor and show him exactly how tyrannical I could be. But I didn’t. Not yet. I let the silence hang heavy, suffocating them with my glare before I spoke again.

My loyal warriors obey, their forms morphing back into their human forms, submitting to the whims of our oppressor. Cyrus revels in his triumph, the gleam of triumph dancing in his eyes as his minions descend upon us with savage fervor, crushing my men beneath their cruel paws, the agonized cries a symphony of despair. Anguish coils within me, a tempest of fury and despair, as Cyrus' mockery echoes through the air, his demands twisting the knife lodged within my soul.

Instead, he felt a hollow detachment as her cries echoed distantly in his ears. He was already so familiar with the sound of different kinds of cries. Cries of agony, of mourning, of pain. Claudia's cries were nothing new, nothing he hadn't heard before. He had once been known as a tyrant in his kingdom, feared by all, and he had long accepted that role. Why should this situation be any different?

I lay there in the dirt, wrists raw, ribs screaming, every part of me cold and wrecked, and I let the pieces fall into place. The loose cuff. The ankle restraint just hanging there. The door that opened when I turned the handle. The hallway with no one in it, perfectly, surgically empty. And now eight wolves that moved like a trained unit and answered to hunt horns, wolves that smelled like rogues but ran like soldiers. None of it had been careless. He had let me out.

The owl was gone. I walked towards the window and looked at the kingdom below. It was peaceful. Too peaceful. How could people laugh beneath the rule of a tyrant. Were they blind? Or was I? Nothing made sense. “It doesn’t matter,” I murmured to myself. “I’ll kill him anyways.” As if it was as easy as I said it. He was stronger. Smart. Always three steps ahead. If I wanted to defeat him, I had to go down to his pathetic level.

So many failed attempts to take down Zavier and Caspian. Heavy footsteps echo behind me. When we step into the open, the space changes. The penthouse comes into view. Chandeliers. Red carpets. Rare antiques. Expensive art lining the walls. Zavier’s taste. Just like his father, obsessed with wealth, power, and control. I follow the bodyguard up the staircase toward the top floor. No footsteps follow behind me. I turn.

Avo suggested, with that old diary in his hand. "And why is that so?" "Because of this, this is the part of the prophecy that we have had." Avo handed me an old paper. "It is not the same, but it does have some common parts with what she told us." When the moon meets the dark son A new lease of power will be undone. Sin and pain will birth another blessed one. First, Lycan will be the tyrant known to all and one. Unparalleled in strength to all and none.

For the world was mine to conquer, and my subjects were mere pawns in my grand game of power and desire. Especially Gracie, who had proven so stubborn these past weeks. Terror blazed in my eyes. Undeniably.

His cold eyes met mine as he took me in. I held his eyes and silently pleaded with him as I was forced into the room. He turned away dismissively. “Our last meeting, it seemed like all of you got the wrong impression that I was on the side of the slave. I prepared this feast to appease all of you,” Alejandro announced. “Tonight, she'll be serving all of you like the slave she is and she'll be treated accordingly the way she's supposed to be treated. A tyrant's daughter” My heart sunk.

"You're too late! The compression is locked! The abyssal core is at critical mass!" "Then turn it off, Vane," I projected my voice back, my tone completely flat, entirely devoid of the panic he wanted to see. I didn't stop walking toward the massive engine. "The war is over. Your Emperor is dead. If you pull that lever, all you are going to do is blow up the canyon." "I am the empire!" Vane roared, his fanaticism overriding any sense of self-preservation. "And the Iron Crown does not surrender to a man who holds hands with beasts!"